


do you consider burgers at the diner down the street fun?

by GoingKnowhere



Series: of moodboards and ficlets [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Art, Art museum, F/M, Female Reader, Female pronouns, Flirting, Innuendo, Reader-Insert, Swearing, moodboard, tour guides, women of color used as reader representation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2019-08-26 14:49:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16683643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoingKnowhere/pseuds/GoingKnowhere
Summary: In which both Steve and Reader are tour guides at an art museum





	do you consider burgers at the diner down the street fun?

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to @jiminthestreets-bonesinthesheets for assisting me with this idea! I hope the story came out well! Gender neutral for the story had been my goal but female reader happened against my will :\
> 
> As for the moodboard, I’m honestly torn on how I feel about it. It’s balanced, but also not???? Like it all works and connects together but it also feels too scattered???? Does that make sense??? Unorganized??? Garbled???? ???????????
> 
> But I love the thought of Steve and Reader being tour guides for the same art museum…flirting in passing…sharing tidbits about art…teasing each other whenever their groups cross paths…
> 
> I love it ♥♥♥♥

**_do you consider burgers at the diner down the street fun?_ **

 

**__ **

_*I do not own the images used nor do I claim ownership of these images._

 

* * *

 

 

Relief flooded your body as the aging man stumbled away to go track down another victim to suffer his alcohol tainted breath. Taking a celebratory sip of your drink, you relished in your first moment alone at the gala, peering around at the room filled with people dressed to the nines. 

 

The gala held by the art museum was something that happened every year and had all of its tour guides dreading it as much as they were excited for it. 

 

On one hand, the museum partnered with an array of designers and allowed each guide to rent their outfit for the night and one would be foolish to pass up that opportunity. 

 

On the other hand, it meant that each of you needed charm the old rich elite into opening up their wallets and dolling out substantial amounts of cash to the museum.

 

Needless to say wearing the gorgeous blue and black gown tonight quelled the irritation you had while suffering the company of lecherous old men with too much money in their papery hands. 

 

So when you felt a presence appear close to you, you found yourself instinctually grounding yourself by drawing a hand over the glitzy bodice. “ _You can do this. You can do this. You’re one of the museum’s favorite tour guides. Go get that money_ ,” you thought. Digging down deep, you twirled around to schmooze whatever senile art snob had picked you as his next target and -

 

“Oh, Steve, thank god!” You breathed with a soft laugh, the tension in your body releasing the moment your eyes settled on your fellow guide.

 

He rewarded you with a blinding smile. “Comforting to know I’m not the only one looking for some safe company,” he laughed. 

 

Steve Rogers had joined the museum tour guide team two years ago and the two of you had been thick as thieves ever since. Incredibly knowledgeable about all aspects of art (among other things), Steve was quick witted with a sense of humor that always made your day. 

 

Looking like Adonis reborn wasn’t too bad of a perk either. 

 

…not that that had any affect on you.

 

The fact that he was dressed in a suit that was a match to your gown had no affect either.

 

You raised your brows, ignoring the fluttering your heart was currently doing. “Oh, you mean you’ve become the target for old men who think they know more about art than you because they buy so much despite never doing anything else in the field?” 

 

“Yikes,” he grimaced. “That’s rough. So you haven’t been found by the old cougars, then?”

 

“Oh, Steve, you poor bastard!” You winced in sympathy. The old rich women weren’t any better than the men. 

 

He nodded with a sigh, swirly the amber liquid in his glass with the face of a man praying for death. “The one in the leopard corned me by the balloon dog and made several comments about popping things that I really do not to recall.” 

 

“ _Gross_ ,” you shuddered. “Meanwhile, I’ve been subjected to numerous comments about how the representation of the vagina in O’Keefe’s works by either one man or several.” You wrinkled your nose in thought. “I don’t really know; they all look the same to me.”

 

Steve snorted, his blue eyes sparkling with amusement. “You make comments about that all the time.”

 

“Yeah, but it’s not creepy coming from me,” you shot back, raising your drink towards him, the light of the room dancing across the blue polish on your nails.

 

“Touché.” He conceded, a soft look gracing his face. 

 

A silence fell between you. The noise of the room rising into focus as you both enjoyed the presence of the other. An invisible bubble of safety from the prying, money riddled beasts circling around in the dim room. 

 

“Y/N…”

 

Your eyes snapped up to Steve to find him gazing at you. Like rare blue diamonds…sharp and shining…glinting…

 

“Y/N?”

 

You blinked as he snapped his fingers and sent him an unamused look as he chuckled. Damn him for being pretty. “What did you say?” You questioned, shaking off your stupor.

 

“I said that maybe we should just leave and get some real food to eat.”

 

“Steve,” you said, coyly, hoping the way you were interpreting his offer correctly. “Are you suggesting we skip out our duties and go do something fun?” 

 

“Maybe,” he grinned. “Do you consider burgers at the diner down the street fun?”

 

Linking your arm with his, you tugged him towards the door. “Damn right I do!”

 

Laughing, Steve matched you further in stride and smile. “Then it’s a date, Y/N!” 

 

xo ♥

**Author's Note:**

> So what did you think?


End file.
